The Long Red Road
by Colt
Summary: The new half-blood boy in town has caught the eye of the riverman's son... Percy/Nico Western AU, No OCs
1. Chapter 1

_So today I'm sick... and had a weird dream... and had a friend give me a writing challenge of doing Percy/Nico as a Western. Somehow, the three formed together into this bit. I actually quite like AU fics, as long as they're done well, and this is my first attempt at one. This won't be some long grand story unless I come up with a REALLY good idea soon. Ish. Feedback on it would be grand so I can know if I'm pulling it off right or not, as well as what you'd like to see. Erm. Yeah._

_I also need a better title. Please suggest one.  
_

_Yes, it is Percy/Nico. If that bothers you, there's a 'back' button up there._

_I don't own Percy Jackson or any related characters. Suing me will earn you nothing except my backpack and schoolbooks, which I will gladly give up because I have trouble reading them._

_EDIT: why I shouldn't write things while sick, it SUCKS. I reread what I wrote and almost died of embarrassment. This isn't a much better draft, but I like it more. So. Please re-read... or read this draft for the first time. . Same things covered, but better written.  
_

**The Long Red Road**

The dust on his boots barely hid the blood, another insult to a long list of injuries in a rather long day. Percy scowled as he tried to scuff the spot off, but he knew he wouldn't get it off with a hard scrub. He could feel his face stiffening with blood as well, as if the weird sideways glances from the folks he passed wasn't clue enough his appearance was questionable.

Percy rubbed his fist across his face, the same fist that clutched the letter from his schoolteacher. The twisted cursive was hard enough to read the first time - something about doing poorly on his last writing assignment. Between his horrible handwriting and the fact he just didn't care about mythology, it had been his lowest grade yet. His hand came away smeared with half-dried blood, so he crammed the letter into his front pocket, completely ignoring the 'see me after class' scribbled at the bottom.

Another person gave him a sideways glance, and Percy prided himself on not glaring back. He was used to the sideways looks by now.

The townsfolk had gotten used to his presence, and for the most part ignored him. Another half-blood roaming the wooden walks of their small dirt-grown town. The only reason he stood out at all was because he was the illegit son of the riverman. His father owned the only body of water around. Between him and the owners of the loggers in the hills and the miners in the dirt, the little town was run off of their trades and some mutual cooperation. Albeit, a grudging cooperation that seemed to depend more on their ignorance of each other.

"Strictly business," his father had claimed. "Everything's strictly business."

Even me?, Percy wanted to bitterly ask. He used to be just another ruddy-nosed half-blood in town: unclaimed by his father and living happily with his mother. Now, he felt like he was just another asset to his father's business. Percy almost wished he could go back to before when people didn't eye him suspiciously, as if wondering what nefarious schemes he was planning to help his father gain complete control of all the businesses in the town. In reality, he didn't really care. He just wanted to be normal.

As normal as a half-blood could be, he supposed. At least he looked more white than most of the other half bloods living in the camp outside of town. His skin was paler and his eyes were green, and his hair wasn't as fine or as dark. But people still knew he was different. Even the other kids at school, the proof on his face and started to drip down his collar.

Percy decided his mother would freak out if she saw him like this. So he turned for the river to clean up before heading home, he scowled. The other kids used to like him - back when he was just another half-blood. Now he was one of the 'Big Three's son. Now he was even more different than the other half-blood children trying to pass as normal settlers. Everything about him came under scrutiny, even his friendships. He was good friends with the schoomaster's pretty blonde daughter, but everyone knew she still had a crush on the half-blood boy whom taught Percy how to fight.

As Percy crouched beside the water and started to scrub, he ironically ammended that thought: Luke didn't teach him how to fight quite as well as him. Of course, four against one was bad odds all the way around. They had called him out on being sly. Though he quickly denied it, he had no way to prove it wrong. And the fight ensued, ending only when Annabeth came to his rescue. A girl having to defend him made him quickly forget any meeting with Mr. Brunner and he ran off, pride wounded.

He splashed water on his face and felt better as the blood washed away. His face heated as he thought that he really didn't like Annabeth - she was a good friend, but...

He stood up and stretched. His mother was waiting for him at home, but he didn't want to face her just yet. He didn't want to show her his poor grade or admit that he got in fight - _again._ She would smile and hug him all the same, but he always felt like he let her down. In more ways than one. And she would probably remind him he had to go to that business meeting with his father later this week. Which he really, really didn't want to go to. He didn't like feeling like some kind of pawn in his father's game.

The lake water gleamed in the mid morning light as Percy dragged a stick through the edge of the water, watching the ripples form and break against the bank. He liked solitude – the quiet made it easier to think. He could ask Mr. Brunner for assistance on his homework – the old man was always more than willing to help Percy and the other half-blood children. But he didn't know how to stop the teasing or the fights over his... interest. Maybe the red-headed girl in town… she liked him well enough as friend, she might be willing to help him out on this. Pretend for a bit just to get all the boys off his back...

A whinny drew his attention further down the bank, right where the river turned into the hills to feed the trees.

The first thing Percy saw was the horse – a tall mutant of a hot-blooded filly at least sixteen if not seventeen hands high with a black coat peppered with coppery red*. The lean body supported on long legs indicated the horse was a runner, used to long distances at top speeds. But the magnificent horse paled in comparison to the boy who just stepped around her, rubbing her down. Percy's breath caught and held as he stared.

The boy looked like he had been formed from the desert at night with soft brown skin and sleek and shiny black hair. He was small and slight, barely coming to the horse's withers. Percy could see the slight bulge under his shirt between his shoulder blades of a throwing knife, but no sling for a gun. He looked too young for the trousers he wore, dressed completely in settler clothes except for the soft moccasin boots he wore instead of riding boots.

The filly noticed Percy first, her ears twitching in his direction followed by her head. Percy could see the boy's mouth moving as he scratched under the horse's neck, softly nickering before turning to see what the horse was looking at. Even at this distance, the boy's dark eyes under the long bangs were captivating. But they narrowed and the soft smile that had been playing on his lips disappeared as he looked back at Percy.

The two stood still for a moment, locked in each other's gaze.

Then in one swift move the boy hitched himself up into the small saddle, mounting from the right side. Before Percy could call out for him to wait, the horse had turned and he was riding off.

**To Be Continued**

_*hot-blooded: a horse meant for speed, Filly: a young female under 4 years old, sixteen-seventeen hands: measurement of height to the horse's shoulders where 1 hand=4 inches. That is tall for a horse._

_any other questions, ask_.


	2. Chapter 2

_If you've just joined us, go ahead on and read the chapter ahead. If you read Chapter One earlier, please go back and re-read it. I rewrote the beginning because I write crap when I'm sick. This is why I need a beta-reader, to tell me not to post things while I'm high on cough medication. Nothing really happens in this chapter so uh... yeah. ._

_Hime no Akuma_: I beg your pardon m'lady, I shall try to write long chapters. I usually write whatever inspiration I get. And the term 'half-blood' implies native blood in this particular AU.  
_Lunareclipse:_ My knowledge of the Wild West? It's certainly not because I lived on my grandparents' ranch in a dirt-sod town with no streetlights or sidewalks where the Lone Ranger, Gunsmoke, and Daniel Boone were filmed. Nope. And I made it a western… because I could, mostly. *laughs* Who doesn't want to picture cowboy!Percy?  
_River-kun_: Break Myself is actually wrapping up soon, but Heat has been more of a side project than anything. So this will probably become a main focus soon.  
_Ceryni_: Don't tell me that or I'll get a big head! And I'm also a fan of well-done AUs, but there's not a lot of variety in them. Hopefully, going Western for a Greek Mythology-based book is a good change of pace.  
_Adelheid_: 'Half-blood' implies mixed native and white. The hard times Percy has in the books because of his parentage really reminded me of the stories my father told me from his childhood dealing with dual racism because of my grandparents.  
_Kyo Akiyamako: _I'm glad you approve *makes a funny face against your monitor*  
_Orochi-ne:_ Just comment if anything still confuses you.

**Chapter Two**

Percy despised his Sunday best when he had to wear it in the stifling heat of the chapel sitting next to his mother, much less in the stuffy small private room in the upper floor of the saloon standing behind his father's chair. He tugged impatiently at his collar as his father checked his pocket watch again and made a disgruntled sound. The lumber camp owner ignored him as he continued casually reading an array of contracts spread across the lacquered table. Percy noted that _his_ child, a rough and ready girl named Thalia, wasn't expected to attend these stupid meetings.

"He's never usually this late," Percy's father announced. There came a vaguely agreeing noise from across the table. The barmaid came in to needlessly refresh the men's alcohol – bad to do business with a buzz, his father said – and refilled Percy's sweetwater. Percy nodded his thanks to her and as whisked around the table to set a third amber-filled glass. Both Percy and his father were happy to see that. "About time."

As bootheels clicked in the wooden hall, Percy noted the barmaid placing two glasses of sweetwater near the third setting. "I would beg your pardon for my tardiness, but knowing your impeccable timing I will spare my breath." The condescending tone announced the arrival of the miner camp owner. Percy barely glanced up to acknowledge his presence, and did a double take. "I am late because I brought along company today."

The company the dark haired man brought was a girl about Percy's age, who Percy barely registered as his eyes fell on the boy behind her and his breath was stolen from his chest. Even in the dingy light filtered through the window shade slits, Percy recognized the stunning boy. He looked different, dressed in a stiff-collared shirt and vest with a ribbon tie and hair slicked back, but a few strands had escaped to hang over his eyes giving him a mischievous look.

Percy barely caught the carelessly short introduction. "My daughter and my son." As if the two were nothing more than possessions to claim. Percy knew that feeling.

There was slight acknowledge, tilted heads in their direction, before their father took his seat and the big three began discussing contracts and legalities. Percy's attention was held by the boy standing a few steps behind his sister with a face locked in solemn seriousness that barely hid sheer boredom.

The boy glanced towards Percy, and recognition filtered across his face. The dark brown eyes narrowed deviously as a smirk quirked at the corner of his mouth.

Percy tried to wrench his eyes away and focus back on… whatever business deal was going down. That involved…stuff, like logjams and the sawmill. But his efforts were useless, and the next hour began a strange game of eye tag where Percy snuck peeks at the black haired boy to appreciatively drink in his slight frame and stature, hands clasped behind his back in the perfect picture of dutiful innocence. It was marred by the glances towards Percy in an attempt to catch him looking. Each time their eyes met and Percy looked away in embarrassment, the boy's smirk snuck back onto his face.

The girl glanced over once or twice, and around the time something about fuel and detonation charges were mentioned she caught their game so far into development Percy was certain he was blushing over his obvious interest in the boy.

She nudged her brother's arm hard and gave him a look that spoke volumes in a language Percy didn't know. The smile that had been slowly growing from the smirk immediately disappeared from his face and the boy returned his attention back to his father. The girl glared hard at Percy, but Percy didn't meet her gaze. Only after she turned away, apparently convinced she got her message across, did Percy note the boy's eyes straying back to him.

The scraping of chairs brought Percy back to his senses as the adult men stood and shook hands with one another. Percy's father turned to him with a triumphant smile. "That's how to make a deal," he announced to his son.

Percy smiled back weakly – he had no idea what deal had been made.

"That's how to make a steal," sneered the other boy's father as he steered his two children from the room with a deathgrip on each of their shoulders. Percy wanted to reach out and grab the boy's arm – ask him for his name or where he had come from so suddenly – but he couldn't even catch his eyes again before they were gone.

"I didn't know Mr. H had kids," Percy announced casually as his father gathered up his paperwork and gloated over the signatures.

"Hmm? Oh, yes." His father frowned. "That is troubling – a man is much easier to manipulate when he hasn't got an heir to think about."

Percy off-handedly wondered what that meant about him as they left the saloon, heading in two different directions. Percy was already ripping off his jacket and ruffling his hair as soon as he rounded the corner. He was hot and sticky all the way down his back, and the sweetwater had done little to help spare him of the heat.

He was struggling to undo his tie when he collided with another person, sending them both stumbling back a few feet. "Pardon me-" Percy began immediately, before noticing that it was the sister of the captivating boy. "Oh, hello."

"Hello," she greeted congenially, but motioned as if to move on. Percy stepped back into her way. She wasn't as alluring as her brother – pretty, but nothing in comparison. The family blood had favored him.

"Excuse me, but I didn't quite catch your name earlier."

The girl finally gave him her full attention. "My name is Bianca." Her voice held the slight musical lift to it, indicating that she spoke a tribal language.

"And your brother?" Percy tried to ask casually, but even he could hear the desperate note to his voice. She obviously heard it as well.

"Nico," she didn't look all too pleased now.

_Nico_. Percy wanted to test saying it, right now, to see how it rolled off the tongue. But he resisted. As if he didn't give his schoolmates enough of a reason to want to beat him up.

"Why haven't I see you around before?" he questioned, trying to sound merely interested and not like a stalker.

Her face fell. "Well… we lived with our mother," she said in a tone that indicated that was not the whole story. "If you will excuse me…"

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry for keeping you." As she continued down the wooden walkway, Percy grinned to himself.

"Nico, huh."


End file.
